Just One Last Time
by rubberradish
Summary: Cameron thought she had her life together post-divorce, post-House, post-Princeton. She had a caring boyfriend, steady job, anything she could ask for. But a mysterious list quickly changes the trajectory of her life, leading her back to someone she thought she would never see again. At least, not under these circumstances.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is the first time I'll be uploading as I write, (I've got a small buffer at the moment) but as of the moment I plan on updating every other week. If I write quicker, however, it may become weekly (or quicker!) Hopefully you guys are willing to stick around. And of course, any thoughts are always appreciated, and thank you so much to those who already have left kind thoughts!**

Allison Cameron shuffled through the pile of files as quickly as she could, trying to locate the next patient. This had been one of the busier days in the ER, and she could hardly keep up with the masses of patients coming in and out. She pulled a thin one out of the stack, opening it quickly for confirmation. Here. This was the one. She grabbed it and walked over to the exam bed where a young boy of about eight sat, amber eyes opened wide. His mother was perched over the side, fussing over her son who seemed eerily calm despite the situation.

"Hi," she said, looking down at him with a smile, "Michael, right? I'm Dr. Cameron. What seems to be the problem?"

"He sliced his knee open-" the mother started, shaking her head, "I tried to cover it with gauze but it's pretty bad and-"

Cameron looked down at the crudely wrapped joint. It was darkened slightly with blood, but the bleeding seemed to have mostly stopped on his own. "He'll need stitches, but I doubt it's much to worry about. He should be up and running again soon enough."

The boy's eyes followed her as she stitched up the wound, and he constantly fidgeted as if he had something to say, eyes darting nervously back and forth. After she had finished, he leaned forward.

"You're a doctor, right?" he whispered.

Cameron nodded.

"So you save people?"

She nodded again, and he stuck out his arm, a grubby piece of paper clenched tightly within a fist.

"You've got to save them. They're in danger, and I'm the only one who knows."

Cameron blinked a few times before defaulting to a smile again. He was young, kids thought of weird things all the time. Taking the wrinkled sheet, she slipped it into a pocket of her lab coat. "Okay, you're all done."

The child nodded solemnly as if he had imparted her with an important mission, giving a salute before scampering off behind his mother.

At lunch, suddenly thinking of it, she pulled out the piece of paper, smoothing it out with two fingers. A list of names, about ten or so. And the kid said they were in danger? Waving it off as impossible, she put it away and didn't think more of it.

That night, cuddled up in front of the television, a particular story caught her eye. A man had been killed in a fishing accident when his small canoe had overturned in the middle of a lake. Something about his name... She pulled out the list, unfolding it quickly. The first name on the list. She held it up to the television, doing a quick check. The names were a match.

She got off the couch in a daze, the hand that held the list trembling. This had to be impossible. How could a list predict someone's death? If it was true, then she had to do something about it. She couldn't just wait around.

"Allison?" Her boyfriend switched the TV off, coming to her side.

"I... I gotta go." She looked at the second name on the list, trying to ingrain it into her memory. "There are people who need me."

She rushed out into the night, heart thumping away, unsure of what she was even trying to do. Standing under the nearest street lamp, she opened up the paper again, going down the list again. And that's when she saw it.

At the very end of the list, barely on the sheet of paper, the bottom of the letters partially cut off. His name. She covered it up quickly as if she was afraid someone would see. It'd been months, nearly a year now since she'd last seen him. But it's not like she'd forgotten.

You don't exactly forget someone you were married to.

She leaned against the lamp with a sigh, staring up at the night sky. There was no way this crumpled piece of paper was some sort of cosmic hit list, right? Those kinds of things didn't exist. Then why was her heart beating faster?

Calm down, Allison, she thought to herself, looking down at the paper again. Find the next person on the list first. Confirm this whole nonsense before you have a panic attack because your ex-husband is going to die. No, she reminded herself, he's not going to die. Because this list isn't real.

"Hey. You doing okay?"

She looked back to see Sean, his hands buried deep in a hoodie pocket.

"You kinda just ran out without an explanation."

"Yeah, I... I needed the air." They'd been dating for almost five months, now. Maybe she'd been moving things too quickly, moved in with him too soon, but... she hadn't anticipated how lonely living alone would've been.

He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her casually, pulling her closer to him. The embrace alone was enough to break her resolve, and she sighed, looking down.

"I'm not okay."

He nestled his nose in her hair. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he murmured.

She stuffed the paper back into a pocket, turning to face him. "It's nothing," she said, smiling. "Thanks for checking up on me."

"Yeah." She could tell by the slight crinkling of his eyebrows that he wasn't convinced, but there wasn't anything else she could say. After all, she wasn't even entirely sure there was something to worry about. She couldn't just... spring a list of doom upon him.

"Look, uh..." she started, unsure of what to say. She had to find the second person on the list, had to confirm this madness. Confusion swirled in the deep brown of his eyes, silently pressing her to say more, but... she had to do this alone.

Realizing this, he sighed, stepping back. "You want to be alone."

She nodded, somewhat sheepishly. "Thanks for understanding."

She watched him go back inside before getting into her car, quickly pulling out her phone to Google the second name on the list. Her Facebook page was one of the first few things that showed up, and she pulled it up, finding herself staring at a random teenager's smiling face.

Cool. Cyberstalking a child. Definitely the right way to spend a night. She even lived in the same city. She leaned back in the seat, sighing. Quit freaking yourself out about this, she thought. It's just a coincidence.

And so she went back inside, forgetting about the list again.

* * *

The next day went on as usual, as she made her rounds around the ER. Until...

"Coming through!" The doors burst open, multiple gurneys getting dragged in, patients in various injured states. One of the paramedics walked up to her.

"Hey, Dr. Cameron." He wiped the sweat from his brow, shaking his head. "Crazy crash on the interstate... it was like five cars piled on top of each other."

She frowned, brow furrowing in concern as she took a patient file from him. "Yeah." She'd seen plenty of horrors working in hospitals so long, but she had to admit, the scene in front of her was pretty gruesome. She walked over to the nearest patient, blood running down her face from a gash on her forehead. She was hyperventilating, shaking uncontrollably.

"Oh my God, Oh my God..." the girl kept repeating, hugging her knees.

Cameron flipped the file open briefly, just to look at the patient's name. Caroline Walters. "Caroline, can you hear me?"

The teenager didn't seem to register her presence, eyes staring straight ahead.

She took a damp towel, gently dabbing the blood away. The patient flinched at the contact, seemingly suddenly coming to. "You're at the hospital. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Elise... she..." The girl looked at Cameron, panic shining brightly in her eyes. "She's dead, isn't she? Oh my God, I think she's dead."  
Cameron peered in at the gash, trying to asses the severity. It wasn't as deep as she'd initially feared. Holding on to the girl's shoulders, she looked into her eyes, hoping that the contact would bring her some comfort. "Caroline, I'm Dr. Cameron. Can you tell me what you remember?"

A few tears dripped down the teen's face as she shut her eyes. "We were... we were going to the mall. Elise was driving."

Cameron nodded, continuing to fix up the wound. Elise. That name sounded familiar.

"And then, like... I wasn't looking, but..." She opened her eyes again, on the verge of breaking down. "It just happened so fast."

* * *

After most everyone was stabilized, Cameron plopped herself down on the couch in the break room, leaning back. What a day.

"Hey there, beautiful." Sean walked in with a wink, sitting on the arm of the couch opposite her, crossing his legs. He looked completely relaxed, and she rolled her eyes, sighing.

"Not too exciting in your department, I'm guessing?"

"Nah. I think I saw a total of three patients today." He smiled at her, raising an eyebrow. "How are you doing? Feeling any better?"

Oh, right. Yesterday. "Yeah, I'm better, thanks." She pulled out the list again, unfolding it. "It's just some stupid little..." She trailed off as she saw the second name on the list again. Elise Douglas. Wasn't that... The interaction with the patient flashed through her head again. That's impossible. She couldn't keep this to herself. She had to tell someone. "Sean..."

"Hm?" he said, leaning over. But before she could get any more words out, a nurse interrupted them, walking in.

"Dr. Cho! There's someone here to see you. Said she had an appointment."

"Ah, yeah, I totally forgot." Sean smiled back at Cameron, running a hand through his dark hair. "Guess that makes it four patients. I'll talk to you later, Allison." He leaned further to kiss her, before leaving the room, lab coat slung over a shoulder. Now alone, she looked down at the paper again, eyes wandering to the third name. Doug Ramos. Silently, she made herself a promise that she'd find him before anything happened.

* * *

After she went home that night, she pulled out her laptop, finding the person relatively easily. A senior at a nearby high school. Played football. Going through his friends list, she identified his parents through the cheery family photos, smiling in front of a waterfall.

This was some second-tier stalking now. To say she was uncomfortable with what she was doing would be an understatement. Everything inside her screamed that this was morally reprehensible, that she was breaking all the unspoken rules she'd set for herself over these years, and her eyes instinctively wandered away from the open webpage, switching tabs.

House would think she was an idiot. She blinked in surprise at her own thought. Why was she thinking about him? She'd left for a reason.

Because she knew exactly what he'd say. She could already imagine his voice berating her, yelling 'would you stalk someone to save them?' or something along those lines. With a sigh, she managed to find their address, and, writing it down on a sticky note, got up from the desk.

"Hey, I'm heading out," she called, Sean looking up from his book.

He closed it and put it to the side, starting to get up. "Do you want me to-"

"Not this time, sorry."

She could tell he was hurt by her response by the millimeter his eyebrows lowered, and he nodded, sitting back down.

Why hadn't she told him? She had been about to this afternoon. She could just tell him now. But when she looked back, he'd already gone back to reading, and she couldn't muster up the courage to interrupt. She'd tell him later. For now, she was on her own.

It wasn't until she was halfway to her destination that it dawned on her. There was a reason she hadn't told him. A reason she'd known the whole time. It was Chase. She didn't want to tell Sean about him.

To be honest, she really hadn't told him much about herself at all. She'd told him a lot of what she had told Chase about her first husband, but the details on the second marriage had been skimmed over. She had said that they'd split because it just didn't work out, which was true, to a degree, but...

She'd been so angry with him when she'd left. No, angry wasn't the right word. She had felt bitter. Betrayed. Hurt. But after the lockdown, after seeing him again, she only blamed herself. He'd always waited for her. Waited for her to be ready to love, to be loved. But she never really had been. She'd blown him off time and time again. And now she was making all the same mistakes all over again.

She parked the car with a sigh, waiting a bit before removing the key from the ignition. She needed to tell Sean about the list. But she had to do what she came to do first.

Standing on a stranger's front porch was unnerving, more so than breaking in. Because this time, she was actively seeking the inhabitants. What would she even say? 'Hi. I'm a doctor. Your son's about to die. A piece of paper told me so'? It already sounded idiotic in hypothetical. Was she meant to say it out loud? She took a deep breath, raising her hand to the doorbell.

Which is when the gunshot rang out. It was deafening, and she found herself holding her hands to her ears, waiting for the ringing inside them to stop. But even covering them couldn't deafen the anguished cries of a mother who had just found the body of her son who had killed himself.

She'd failed before she even got to him. In a daze, she stumbled back down the steps, driving away before anyone could see her.

She was still petrified when she returned back to the apartment, hands shaking by her sides. She'd let someone die. She hadn't stopped it. Sean noticed immediately, dropping everything as he rushed over to her, eyes wide.

"What happened?"

She looked at his face through blurred vision, lip quivering. "I..." Unable to get another word out, she threw herself into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder. He held her as she cried, leading her back to the couch, waiting patiently for the sobs to slow, her breath to steady. And then, when she finally caught her breath, she told him everything.

He leaned back, blinking, and she could already see the doubt growing in his eyes as he looked back at her. "Are you sure that... that this is real?"

She could do nothing more than nod silently, wiping away some of the residual tears.

He nodded back, looking away in thought. "And you said it was once a day, approximately. It means you have some time to figure out this nonsense."

He seemed... oddly calm. Had he glossed over the entire Chase bit or..?

"And... about your ex-husband..." Ah. So he hadn't. He looked conflicted even bringing the topic up, putting a hand behind his head. "At the very least, we're going to Princeton soon anyway for the conference you're speaking at. We could probably track him down while we're there."

Conference? What confer- The speech she had left sitting on her desk suddenly came to mind, printed out but yet to be rehearsed. Right. That conference. She'd practically forgotten about it with all of this list nonsense. She covered her face with her hands, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Oh my God, I totally forgot. I have to speak and there's gonna be tons of people and-"

He shushed her gently, pulling her closer. "Hey. Come on, now. It's okay. I'm right here. We'll get through this together."

Together. She wouldn't have to do it alone. "Okay." She leaned back into the embrace, closing her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

What was that terrible beeping noise? Chase rolled over drowsily, trying to muffle the sound. Nope. It's still going. In resignation, he pulled the sheets down from over his head to an unfamiliar bedroom. Where the hell... He stumbled out of bed, head pounding. How drunk did he get last night? He wasn't wearing anything but his underwear, and even that seemed clumsily tugged on.

A woman walked in, toweling her hair dry. "Hey. Sorry about the alarm."

"Yeah, it's fine," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. Right. He'd left with her last night. What was her name? Tiffany? Stephanie? It ended in an 'e' sound, he was pretty sure. He looked over at the clock, still making the horrid noise. 8:15. Damn. He was going to be late again.

"I was going to let you sleep, but, well..."

He shook his head, which was a mistake, as the rapid movement only made the pain worse. "No, it's fine, I... I've got work." His clothes were on the ground in a wrinkled pile. Great. He picked up the shirt, shrugging it on awkwardly, trying to smooth out some of the folds that had accumulated overnight.

Brittney or whatever nodded. "I guess you can show yourself out then."

"Yeah. I had a good time." He winked, fastening his belt. "See you never."

She hesitated at this, towel clutched between her hands. "Actually, I was maybe hoping that..."

"Sorry. Not interested." He finished the last few buttons on the shirt, leaving before she could object again.

It wasn't like rejecting the random assortment of women he'd slept with was new. He'd never let any of them close, not even to the point where they'd go back to his place rather than theirs.

Grabbing his lab coat out of his locker, he walked over to the diagnostics room, somehow still making it before House.

"Good morning," Foreman said, sliding a cup of coffee across the table. "You're late."

Chase scoffed, taking a sip. "If I'm before House, I'm on time. And don't act like you're not also hungover."

"I got a full eight hours of sleep, Chase. Something you might've benefited from."

He laughed. "I think you're just jealous, mate." To be fair, though, his head was killing him.

Masters blinked, slightly uncomfortable with the exchange. "You know, studies say that eating a good breakfast could assist with a hangover. As well as, well, ibuprofen."

Chase shrugged, grabbing a banana. Might as well eat something. But before he could even start to unpeel it, House limped jovially into the room, a smirk on his face. "Well, I've just been talking to Cuddy..."

Taub glanced at him sideways. "Are you sure it was just talking?"

"Oh, trust me, it was better than just talking," House quipped, dropping a fresh stack of files on the table. "But, she cordially reminded me that I need to send one of you to the stuffy medical conference at Princeton General this Saturday."

Masters' eyebrows shot up at the prospect. "Oh, I can-"

"Chase. You're going."

He should've seen this coming. No matter how long he was a fellow, House would always find some way to pick on him. But he didn't do things without reason. "Why me?" he asked, frowning.

"Because you have the prettiest hair," House said, already writing symptoms on the board. "And because a particular someone is going to be there."

A particular... someone? What could he mean by... oh. Now that was a House move if he ever knew one. "Cameron?"

"Ah, right," Masters said, cutting in. "I read the information page on the event. Dr. Allison Cameron will be speaking on her paper, 'What Working in the Emergency Room Taught me About the Human Condition'."

Foreman shrugged. "Sounds exactly like something Cameron would write."

Yeah. It did. Chase didn't know how he felt about the prospect of seeing her again. Sure, they had parted on good terms, but they hadn't interacted since. He pulled over a file before anyone could notice his discomfort, skimming the details quickly.

"So, who's Cameron again?" Masters asked, Chase subconsciously squeezing the file tighter. "And what's everyone's history with her?"  
"I think you should ask Chase," House said, nodding in his direction.

"I think we have a patient," he retorted, eyes still glued to the information. "Twenty-three-year-old Megan Campbell, to be exact." And so, the topic of Cameron was dropped, at least for now.

* * *

Cameron hadn't expected Sean to come into the ER, especially while he was supposedly on shift. But there was a seriousness in his eyes, the usual playful light extinguished.

"What's going on?" She asked somewhat playfully, still focused on her current patient.

But the hard line his mouth was in didn't shift. "The next name on your list... he's admitted here."

The news was like a sudden shock, and she had to consciously hold on to her clipboard to avoid dropping it. "What for?"

"I don't know. But he's one of Dr. Augustine's patients."

The head of oncology. Not exactly a good person to see if you were planning on living. "Thanks. I'll check it out."

He nodded. "Be careful."

On her break, she went to go visit the patient, who was watching the TV in the corner of his room.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Cameron. Alan, was it?"

The elderly man looked back at her with weary eyes, the life inside them dulled. He blinked a few times, registering the presence of the other human being, lifting up a hand briefly before dropping it. "What a lovely young lady. I have a daughter just like you." With that said his eyelids dropped slowly, falling asleep before she could even respond.

A woman around her age was standing in the doorway, wiping a few tears from her eyes.

The connection happened instantly. "You're Mr. Richmond's daughter, right?"

She nodded, coming inside silently and taking a seat. "Yeah. I just... I just wish I had more time to say goodbye. I've known the whole time it was terminal, but actually being here..." She took a shaky breath, wiping away a few more tears. "He's the only family I have left."

Cameron nodded, placing her hand on her shoulder out of empathy. "I'm sorry."

Shaking, the woman wrapped her in a hug, squeezing her tight as she cried. Returning the embrace, Cameron couldn't help wondering if that would be her in less than a week, crying into a shoulder because she'd lost someone she loved.

* * *

Chase should've known that he couldn't keep the questions away for long. Running some tests under a microscope, he tried to ignore Masters fidgeting awkwardly in the seat beside him. But, alas, eventually it annoyed him enough to turn in the chair, facing her.

"Something you need?"

Her eyes darted to his face as if she hadn't expected him to say anything at all. "I... uh... I was thinking that you'd be more willing to share in a more private situation."

"You'd be wrong," he said, turning back to his work. She was almost instantly crestfallen, looking away regretfully. Dammit. He sighed, shaking his head. "She used to work on the team. We were married."

"Oh."

He nodded, going back to the sample. And so, the silence was restored for the moment, if only for too brief a moment.

"Do you mind if I ask why she left?" Much too brief a moment.

"Yep," he clipped back, not even hesitating. Did he himself even remember why? He'd always blamed it on Dibala, but... she had taken the situation surprisingly in stride. But he had chosen not to leave Princeton with her. He'd chosen to stay. But she'd also left without a warning, leaving him only with the message that he had changed. That he had somehow been irreversibly corrupted by House.

But then they'd met again. They'd made up. But he had still signed the papers, still had let her walk out that door. Whose fault was it really?

* * *

Cameron sat in the locker room, head bowed, hands in her lap. It had been the first time she'd gotten to someone on the list before they died and they were already beyond saving. None of this made any sense. There didn't seem to be a pattern to this, any discernible way she could predict what would happen next. Nothing except knowing the next name down the list would die tomorrow.

Sean walked in without a greeting, silently taking a seat on the bench opposite her. They shared the space wordlessly for a moment before he looked up at her. "You found him, didn't you?"

She nodded numbly. "Stage four brain cancer."

"You couldn't have done anything."

"I know." But it didn't make her feel any better. She was running out of time.

Sean sighed, getting up to sit next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe we could find the kid. Maybe he knows what's behind all this."

She laughed at the notion. "Sean, he's eight."

He leaned back, raising his eyebrows with a grin. "What, you don't think a child could possibly hold all the answers to human mortality?"

She shrugged, still smiling. "You're right, he should at least know something." She was glad he was with her through this. She took his hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze. Without him, she didn't think she could go through this. She was beyond lucky to have someone who was willing to put up with all of this.

He stood up, getting his jacket out of his locker. "So, we've got a few hours before we need to go to the airport. Let's find this kid."

* * *

It didn't take long to find where he lived. Every patient record came with an address, after all. The hard part, naturally, was actually getting any answers. The door swung open to Michael's mother standing on the other side, a slightly perplexed expression setting in.

"Hi. Um, how can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Dr. Cameron," she said, trying to plaster on the most inviting smile she could. "I took care of your son on Tuesday?" Oh, she really hoped this would work. Otherwise, she was going to make a fool out of herself.

The confused expression lessened slightly with the recognition, but the suspicion lingering behind did not.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to ground herself. "Could I speak to Michael for a moment? Just as a sort of follow-up."

His mother shrugged, turning her head back to call him over. "Michael, can you come here, sweetie?"

The boy bounced to the door, eagerly sticking his head out. "Hi, Doctor Cameron! Did you save anyone yet?"

The statement was like a stab in the chest, and it suddenly took a substantial amount of additional effort to keep smiling. "No. I haven't."

The smile practically melted off the boy's face as he looked down. "Oh."

Pressing her lips tighter together, Cameron knelt down, meeting him at his height. "Can I ask you a question about the list you gave me?"

He nodded, not meeting her eyes.

"How did you know what people to write down?"

He shrugged, shuffling back a few steps. "I just saw it in their eyes." He looked back up, wide eyes brimming with tears. "How come you didn't save them? You know that if you don't save them, they die, right? You've got to do something!"

Whatever semblance of a smile that remained on her face was quickly gone. She did know. She knew all too well. "Michael, I'm so sorry..."

"You promised! You made a promise and that means that- that means that- you can't just-" His face scrunched up, unable to form the right words.

Cameron cupped his cheek in her hand, looking into the bright eyes that had earlier been filled with such hope. "I'm still trying. I won't give up, okay?"

He turned his head away. "Okay." With that said, he turned and walked back into the house, disappearing from sight.

She could already feel the glare of a mother's disapproval boring into her before she even looked up.

"I think you should leave." The statement was cold, firm.

She nodded, taking Sean's hand as they walked away, head bowed like a scolded child.

* * *

It wasn't until they were on the plane that the silence on the encounter was broken.

"That could've gone better."

Cameron sighed, eyes staring out at the shrinking city of Chicago beneath them. "Yeah." Better was one way to put it. She felt like she was standing at the edge of a chasm, only a few steps from falling in. She'd accepted an impossible responsibility, inadvertently taking the lives of complete strangers and one who was anything but, into her hands. She wished she didn't know, wished she couldn't see death slowly closing in on them.

But then again, being ignorant wouldn't save Chase. And even if she didn't know... Her brain flashed through a slideshow of imagined grief- getting the phone call, going to his funeral, standing over his casket in tears, wondering what had gone wrong. No. She couldn't- she couldn't let that happen.

But what if there was no way to stop the deaths? Was she just chasing after an impossibility? His face came into her head, and she held the picture for a moment, unwilling to forget. Even if there was no way to save him... she wanted to see him, just one last time.  
Sean nudged her playfully, a half-hearted smirk on his face. "But hey, we have another clue."

She blinked a few times, turning to look at him. Usually, his light-hearted nature could cheer her up, but today, it was lost on her. "What do you mean?"

"The kid. He said he could tell who to put on the list by looking into their eyes."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you're thinking..."

The grin on his face grew wider. "That we have a medical mystery on our hands." He paused in mock thought. "You think I'd look good with a cane?"

She scoffed, leaning back in her seat, trying to muffle the laughter that threatened to spill out. "What makes you so sure that this is a medical case?"

"Think about it," Sean said, accepting a cup of orange juice from a flight attendant. "You said he gave the list to you because you save people. Since when are doctors the only ones who save people? Why'd he give it to you, and not a police officer, a firefighter, a soldier?"

She shrugged. "Maybe because he saw me first?"

"Maybe. But maybe it's not just a coincidence. Maybe none of this is just a coincidence."

"Fine," Cameron said, setting her cup of water on the tray table. "Say this is a medical thing. What would he be seeing?"

"An eye condition?" Sean suggested, sipping his juice. "I can't think of anything that would be fatal, though."

"The teenage girl," she suggested. "Maybe she suddenly couldn't see the road, leading to the car crash."

"Doesn't explain the suicide. You don't kill yourself because you suddenly can't see."

The suicide. She shuddered involuntarily, a chill rushing down her spine. The screaming. The cry of terrified, anguished loss, the loss nothing could ever replace. Echoing through her head, as if she was still on that doorstep now.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah," she stammered, shaking her head briefly. The mental toll was already catching up to her. "Maybe it wasn't an eye thing. Maybe he was seeing how they felt." She looked back out the window, only too aware what the implications of her next words were. "Maybe it was depression."

Sean didn't respond immediately, taken aback slightly. "And you think that... Chase... is depressed?" He spoke the words slowly, eyebrows wrinkling together.

"I don't know what I'm thinking," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. She hadn't seen him in a year, hadn't spoken to him. Who knows what he was like now? Maybe he wasn't even the same man she remembered.

"Allison. Hey." He grabbed her hand, looking into her eyes. "We'll see when we get there. Don't worry about it now."

She nodded, if only to appease him. How could she not worry? With so much on the line, how could she do anything but worry?

Taking a deep breath, she called a flight attendant over to order a glass of wine.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ready for your big day?" House practically announced, prompting Chase to raise his head from his breakfast.

He smirked, taking another bite of his bagel. "I'm not gonna let you get to me."

House put his hand over his heart in mock injury as he walked over to the whiteboard, hanging his cane on it. "And how could you accuse me of something like that?"

Chase took a long, drawn out sip of coffee. "I'm over Cameron. She's got her own life now, and that's none of my business."

House continued scribbling on the board, back turned. Curious, Chase craned his head, unable to see anything being written. The diagnostician stepped back, capping the marker. On the board was one word, written in black.

Denial.

Chase lowered the mug from his lips. "Excuse me?"

Nearby, Foreman nearly choked on his own coffee, wiping his lips quickly with a napkin.

"I mean, he's got a point," Taub chimed in. "When's the last time you've been in a normal, not a hookup, relationship?"

Taub. Eager to jump on board the make fun of Chase train. Anything to distract from his own marital problems, he suspected. Or maybe it was the lack of at this point.

"I've been in many relationships," he retorted defensively, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears. He got up from his seat before he even knew what he was doing, the words tumbling out of his mouth. "Fine. 200 bucks say I'll have a girlfriend by the end of the week."

The room was instantly hushed over. Foreman raised his eyebrows in surprise, choosing to stay silent. Masters almost looked embarrassed, pretending to hide behind her case file, but Chase could see her eyes cautiously peeking over the top. Taub seemed mildly amused, but his expression barely gave it away.

House smiled wryly, capping the marker with an audible pop. "Deal."

* * *

"You might as well pay him now," Foreman said, barely audible over the loud noises of the MRI.

"What, you think I'm going to lose?" Chase retorted, turning to look at him.

Foreman shrugged, face impassive as he gazed through the glass.

"You think House is right." The words lingered in the air, unanswered. "You can't seriously think that I'm going to lose this bet."

He swiveled the chair slowly around. "I think you'll find a girl. You'll go on a banging date, literally, then when she calls you the next day, you won't be able to pick up the phone. Admit it, Chase, you're afraid of opening up."

Chase averted his eyes, instead focusing his attention on the unremarkable scan of the patient's chest. Or at least pretending to. The more people hounded him on this Cameron thing, the more he started feeling that they might actually be right. But that couldn't be the case... could it?

* * *

The speech surprisingly went off without a hitch, given how much time Cameron had actually practiced in the middle of everything. After all, she'd failed to save yet another person this morning. At this point it felt like the lives were water in her hands, slipping between her fingers, and she was unable to do anything about it.

But even as she was at the podium speaking, she couldn't help scanning the crowd for familiar faces, a particular head of dirty blonde hair.

But chances were he wasn't even there. Even if someone from the team went, who was to say it wasn't Foreman, Taub, Thirteen, or even some other doctor she'd never met before? It'd been almost a year. Cameron wouldn't be surprised if House had started literally booting people out the door.

Somehow, at the afterparty, she found herself at the snacks table, nursing some fruity something, completely alone. Sean had gone off to catch up with a college buddy, with the promise of returning soon. Apparently soon wasn't soon enough. Unfamiliar faces kept passing by, a few stopping to congratulate her. Which is why she didn't think twice when a familiar voice called out.

"I saw your speech."

"Thanks," she responded on autopilot, turning her head to meet the speaker. But her jaw went slack the instant her eyes met his. "H-hey," she stammered, eyes widening.

"Hey yourself," he responded, smile beaming. He looked... good. Really good. The tailored suit fit his frame like a glove, small blue accents complimenting the blue in his eyes, almost seeming to sparkle under the dim light. His hair was short. She'd forgotten he'd cut it.

"I forgot you cut your hair." Smooth, Allison, she chastised in her head almost immediately. Real smooth.

He ran a hand through it, smile only widening. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"It has." The hair was probably why she'd failed to spot him in the crowd. She'd been looking for the familiar longer locks he'd sported nearly the entire time she'd known him. In fact, she was surprised at how well the new look suited him.

"Care for a dance?"

She put the drink aside without a second thought, a smile spreading across her face as she took his hand.

* * *

Chase was astonished by how surreal this all felt, but even more so by how natural it was. He'd been chatting up a prospective date when he'd seen her alone at the table, and immediately, the conversation was dropped.

They swayed slowly to the music, eyes locked on one another, absorbing the moment.

"I wonder why all these conferences always have some sort of obligatory party at the end," Cameron mentioned, looking around.

He chuckled. "Well, that's how they get all the cool doctors to come. You know, like yours truly," he said, winking.

She laughed, shoving him a little away. "Yeah, right. You're drunk."

He smirked, leaning his head back. "Just a little." He could feel the familiar heat in his cheeks, the slight rush over his whole body. "So I was thinking... how do you feel about dinner tomorrow night to catch up properly?"

A slight waver in her smile. "Yeah, sure, but... do you mind if I bring someone?"

He could feel his eyebrows crinkling slightly in confusion. "Sure, not a problem." The words of agreement left his lips anyway, but the unexpected invitation had piqued his interest. Who would the someone be? Foreman? No, couldn't be. She would've mentioned him by name. But he couldn't think of anyone else he knew that she would invite, unless...

An Asian man in a black and white tuxedo came up behind Cameron, his dark hair in a slicked-back pompadour. His face was set in a childish grin, his youthful demeanor a strange contrast to his athletic build, like a child's head stuck on top of an Olympic swimmer.

She turned to greet him, pulling him into an enthusiastic hug. "Sean!"

Stepping back, the man extended a hand and Chase shook it, still slightly confused as to who this was.

"Sean Cho. Nice to meet you."

He nodded. "Robert Chase."

The man laughed a little, wiping his eyes. "Yeah, I've heard of you. I'm, uh, I'm Allison's boyfriend."

Oh. That... made a lot of sense, actually. Especially now that their arms were linked, her head leaning on his shoulder. Chase smiled, gesturing over at the bar. "Drinks on me."

* * *

As they made their way over, Chase tilted his head curiously. "So you said you've heard of me. Good things, I'm hoping?"

Sean laughed, taking a seat. "Mostly."

Chase raised an eyebrow. "Mostly?"

He glanced back at Cameron, shrugging. "Honestly, you've been kind of an enigma. It's almost unbelievable that I can meet the man himself."

Chase found his eyes on her as well, sitting between them. She looked kind of uncomfortable, to be honest, eyes trained on her hands rather than any of the two men. It was probably better to change the topic. "So, what do you do?"

His face lit up in an inviting smile, almost seemingly oblivious to the tension he inadvertently created. "Oh, yeah, I'm a rheumatologist, actually."

Chase nodded. "My dad was a rheumatologist." And with that, the conversation eased up, a tray of drinks set down on the bar. They chatted about whatever came to mind, laughing at jokes that got progressively more funny with intoxication. But a serious look suddenly froze Cameron's features, as she pulled Sean aside.

Shrugging it off, Chase ordered another drink, drumming his fingers on the bar absentmindedly.

"Hey."

He turned to see the woman he had previously been talking to, tucking some curls of her hair behind an ear. He nodded in greeting as she took a seat next to him.

"You didn't leave to just be a third wheel, did you?" she asked, a slightly seductive tone underlying.

"I..." He blinked, the alcohol clouding his thoughts. "I guess I did," he admitted, shrugging with a laugh. "What, you wanna make it four?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to roll out of here," she suggested. "Bicycle."

Chase glanced over at the couple, who seemed to be frantically whispering. Whatever they were talking out, he didn't want to be a part of it. He threw back the rest of his drink, setting the empty glass on the bar. "You know what, I think I could use the exercise."

* * *

"I think our guess was wrong," Cameron said, looking over to make sure they were out of earshot. "He's not depressed."

"And you gathered that from one conversation?" Sean asked.

"I know Chase," she insisted, almost surprised at her defensive tone.

He shook his head, quickly becoming equally as flustered. "Fine. What do we do now?"

"I don't know, but we need another lead. Fast." They weren't going to make it in time. They weren't going to make it. She tried in vain to convince otherwise but the thought kept unearthing itself from the back of her mind, desperate to be heard. She'd forgotten earlier, consumed by the conversation, the company around her.

How could she have forgotten? It was him she was trying to save after all, but the playful banter, the dance... it was almost like there was nothing to worry about at all. She'd been lost in the moment, like a snapshot back in time when things were simpler.

She glanced up to see that he was leaving with another woman, one she didn't recognize, arms linked together. Something inside her screamed to not let him go, to run after him, to confess everything she knew. But they disappeared out the door, and she hadn't taken a step.

"We'll just keep going then," Sean finally said, pushing his hair back. "We'll find the next person, try to do the quickest differential in history, and if we fail, repeat it."

"We don't have that much time," she said, desperation creeping in. "We can't just keep failing."

"You don't think I know that?" he hissed, almost on the verge of yelling. "We- lets just go back to the hotel and figure this out, alright?"

She shook her head, looking away. "Fine."

* * *

"So, who was that chick?" Chase's date asked as they entered her hotel room. "Must be pretty special for you to drop everything like that and go talk to her."

Special was one way to put it. "Yeah," he started, sprawling out on a chair, but before he could get any more words out she looked up in sudden realization.

"You have a thing for her, don't you?"

It took a second for the words to sink in. "I-" He sighed, running an exasperated hand through his hair. "Why has everyone been saying that? Man, I don't even know you." House, Foreman, and now this random lady? At this rate, he was never going to get a break.

"And that's why you're here with me. You found out she wasn't single, and you're looking for a distraction, right?"

He was just trying to have sex. Preferably with someone he'd never have to deal with again. Because, honest to God, he'd forgotten how annoying some people could be.

Oh my God, he thought, icy realization gripping his heart. Foreman was right. The woman walked closer, seating herself on his lap.

"Luckily for you, I don't care if you're thinking of someone else, as long as we have some fun," she whispered, tracing a finger down his jawline.

But whatever mood there had been had already been extinguished. He pushed himself up with some effort, taking a few steps forward. "I'm sorry, but I think I'm gonna go."

And so, leaving a disappointed date behind, he left.

Rain drummed down on his car as he drove home, the ambient noise a background for more turbulent thoughts. What was he doing? What had he been doing? He couldn't help self-evaluating, something he had last done when Cameron had left. But before it had been wondering why she had left. Wondering where he went wrong, what he could to do bring her back. Hoping, wishing she would call him back.

No, he hadn't reflected on his own actions for a while. Not since the lockdown.

Maybe he should have.

It was if a sudden emptiness set in, like he suddenly realized what he had been missing. And with it, the urge to drown the feeling out. With anything. Anyone.

It took more effort than he was willing to admit to not turn the car around.

* * *

Sean waited for the click of the door behind them before he started speaking. "Look, I get it, you want to save these people."

She whirled to face him. "And how are we meant to do that? We have nothing, Sean. Nothing."

He held his hands up. "Hey. Calm down."

Calm? How was she supposed to be calm? "You saw him, right? Talked to him?"

"I mean, yeah, but-"

"He could die. How on earth can I be calm right now? Does this even matter to you?"

"Of course it does!"

"Then how can you even suggest that I be calm?"

"Because if we just stand here arguing, he's as good as dead! You'd be more productive digging a second grave!"

The words hung in the now silent air, as she stared at him in disbelief, and his eyes widened as he realized a line had been crossed.  
"Allison-" he started, but she turned away, walking to the window, trying her best to keep tears at bay.

Her first husband... David. She didn't think much about him anymore. Gazing out as rain started to spill from the sky, she wondered if she was meant to.

She could hear Sean's footsteps leaving, the bathroom door closing behind him. Pulling up a chair, she sat numbly as the drops fell, splashing over the city. She wished she could go back to that one moment at the party, when all her worries had felt so far away.

It was a selfish wish.

The list lay open on the windowsill, a good portion of the crudely scrawled names already crossed out. Looking down, she smoothed out the worn wrinkles in the paper, counting them in her head. Seven. Seven exactly. Seven people, seven days.

A week before he'd die.

She cast the thought away forcefully, shoving it aside. They still had time. They still had time. They still had...

She sighed, tearing her eyes from the window. A week before David had died, he was already a shell of his former self, unable to do much else but lie in bed, waiting for the end.

He'd apologized for having to leave, telling her he wished he could've been there for every moment in her life- no- in their life. What it could've been. What it never got to be. Maybe she didn't think much about him anymore because all it did was hurt.

"I'm sorry."

She turned to look at Sean, now dressed in his pajamas, remorse written into every feature of his face. Not having any words to respond with, she nodded.

Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, nestling his face in the crook of her neck. "I didn't mean it, really."

"I know."

Chase had nearly died, too, once.

She remembered his bachelor party. She remembered him lying on the hospital bed, a cheesy grin plastered across his sweat-covered face, the smell of alcohol ruminating from every pore. She remembered being afraid. She remembered holding his clammy body tight, whispering to him to please, never let something like that happen again, that she didn't know what she would do without him.

Chase... he'd been laughing, chatting, full of life. A stark contrast to where David had been, cancer eating him alive. How was he supposed to be dead within a week? It just didn't... She blinked in realization. "Sean."

"Hm?"

She stood up, grabbing the pen and notepad on the end table. "Whatever this is, it happens suddenly, and doesn't show any signs in otherwise healthy people." She started scribbling furiously, putting down everything they knew. "We don't have a whiteboard... so this will have to do."

They sat on the bed, heads craning over the small piece of paper. Sudden onset symptoms, nearly instantaneous death, seen in eyes?

"Okay," she relented, hopelessness setting back in. "We don't really have anything."

"You know, there's a reason for that," he said, half of his mouth turning up in a cheeky grin in an attempt to lighten the situation. However, despite the forced demeanor, she could see a reserved sadness still lingering in his eyes. No doubt trying to salvage the pieces after their argument.

"And what's that?" she asked, deciding to humor him.

"We haven't spent much time at all with any of the doomed. We've only been able to catch them when they're dead or about to be dead."

She frowned, processing this. "So you're saying..."

"We try to locate everyone left on this list today. No disease leaves no hints."

She couldn't help smiling at his renewed enthusiasm, pulling him close. "Okay, but after we sleep. It's one in the morning, Sean."

He glanced over at the clock in surprise, before looking back to meet her eyes, a small smile spreading across his face. "So it is." He leaned in, kissing her as he switched the lights off.


	4. Chapter 4

Three surprised faces glanced up at Chase as he entered the diagnostics room, lab coat slung over a shoulder.

"You're... on time," Foreman noted, slowly beginning to stir his coffee again.

"I am," he responded, raising an eyebrow as he took a seat at the table.

"We were expecting you to stumble in around nine with your pants on backwards," Taub said, not bothering to look up from the notes he was reviewing.

"They're right," Masters agreed, as Chase glanced down quickly to make sure his pants were not, in fact, backwards. "This doesn't correlate with your previous behavior." She eyed him suspiciously. "Something's up."

Before he could get out a line of retaliation, House kicked open the door, strolling in.

"Do you guys smell that?" he asked, sniffing the air with a frown.

The fellows looked around the room hesitantly, following suit.

"No..?" Foreman said, narrowing his eyes.

House tapped his cane on the ground a few times. "Smells like a bleeding heart."

It was him, wasn't it? Of course it was. House didn't even have to look over in his direction for him to know it. "Cameron," Chase said, drawing her name out, "has a boyfriend. And our patient has kidney failure."

"And you have heartache."

Not letting up that easy, huh? Not a problem. He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. "Alright, we'll just let her die. Sounds good."

House pondered this a moment, ultimately nodding his head. "Go. Run your LP."

Everyone stood up from the table, but as Chase walked out the door, House's response sent a shiver up his spine.

"I bet you asked her to dinner, didn't you?"

Trying to ignore the prying diagnostician, he quickened his pace down the hall, glancing at his watch. He had a surgery scheduled at 10. Good. More time spent avoiding House... and the rest of the team, to boot.

* * *

Cameron held the phone to her ear, waiting. It took two rings for him to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dr. Wilson. It's Dr. Cameron."

A pause. "Well, this is certainly a surprise. How have you been?"

"I've been good. But listen, do you know where I could give Lucas?"

Another pause, longer this time. "Uh... I haven't seen Lucas in a while. Not since Cuddy left him for House."

The statement left her speechless. Cuddy and House? Sure, they'd flirted on and off over the years, but... they were actually together? House? Even the idea felt impossible to fathom.

"Hello?"

She blinked a couple times. "Yeah, sorry. Thanks for letting me know."

"Of course. It's nice hearing from you."

"You too." And with that, the line clicked dead.

"No luck?" Sean asked, walking over.

"No," she said, leaning back in the chair with a sigh. We're going to have to try something else."

* * *

The patient was laid out the table, unconscious, a sheet over her body. Chase has just finished scrubbing down with the rest of the surgical team, entering the room.

"Honestly, I'm glad to get away from House for a bit," he said, pulling on a pair of gloves.

A member of the surgical team chuckled. "Yeah, I can't imagine working for the guy. Let alone willingly."

"Nah, it's not that. Not this time." He moved over to the cart arranged neatly with various surgical tools, picking up a scalpel. Walking back to the patient, he continued speaking. "He's just been really caught up in..."

His fingers were numb. Gingerly, he rolled the tool between his thumb and index finger, trying to gauge if the feeling would come back. He hadn't put on the wrong glove size, had he?

"You doing okay?"

He opened and closed his hand a few time, the feeling leaving as soon as it came. Odd. He looked up, gripping the scalpel more firmly. "Yeah. I'm good. Let's get this show on the road.

* * *

"Look at that," Sean said, leaning back from the computer screen. "I looked up every single instance of the same first and last names of every single person on the list on Facebook. And then, using the location information provided, I put a dot on the map. Each color is a different name."

Cameron leaned in, looking over the array of colored dots. One spot in particular being more colorful than the rest. "There's only one place with almost every color. And it's right here in Princeton."

Sean nodded. "It means we have a chance."

* * *

"Hey there, lover boy," Foreman teased, stopping Chase halfway as he changed back into his clothes.

With an exasperated sigh, he turned to look at him. "Yes?"

Foreman continued to try to muffle his laughter, eventually taking a seat on the bench. "Sorry, it's just fun seeing you get so worked up about this. Makes you think there's something behind it, huh?"

Chase finished the last few buttons of his shirt, shaking his head. "Nah. Not anymore."

The neurologist stood up, shrugging. "If you say so." The pair walked down the hall, back toward the diagnostics room. "The patient's improving a bit. I think the change of meds helped."

Chase nodded, eyes narrowing as they turned the corner. "What's Cuddy doing here?"

She was still bickering with House as they entered, silently taking seats at the table.

"I'm not getting you a babysitter!" House exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

"It's not a babysitter," Cuddy said as if talking to a child, "I need a licensed professional to help out in the children's ward, because Dr. Matthews has just called in sick."

It was honestly hard to believe, sometimes, that they were actually dating. A casual observer would swear for sure that they hated each other. Chase leaned back, chewing on a toothpick thoughtfully.

"There are tons of doctors in this hospital. I need my team!" House yelled, the two getting increasingly close together.

Taking the offer wouldn't be that bad, would it? He could wrangle some kids for a few hours, not a big deal. And he wouldn't have to deal with the mob in this room.

"You did just fine with three members before, you can do it again."

"I'll do it."

Within seconds everyone's eyes were on him, mixtures of confusion and surprise on their faces.

A tight smile forced its way onto Cuddy's face. "Thank you, Dr. Chase." She turned back to House, putting her hands on her hips almost smugly. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

He rolled his eyes in response, looking away. "Okay, mom."

She turned to leave, smile widening, Chase getting up to follow. "Don't forget, you have to take care of Rachel for a few hours tonight since I'm working late."

He could hear an exaggerated sigh force itself from the room as he exited behind the dean.

* * *

"What? What is it?"

Sean ran his hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. "Yeah, the next lady? Sandra Lee? We don't know anything about her except she's in the city. She's '26', but judging by the anime profile picture, she's probably actually sixteen, and she works at the 'Krusty Krab', and hasn't even listed a school."

Cameron burst out laughing, leaning back in the armchair.

Sean sat on one of the armrests, crossing his legs. "Like I get that we're literally the definition of the scary internet people moms tell their kids to watch out for, but like please let us stalk your daughter just this once?"

Cameron wiped her eyes. "Add her as a friend."

"What?"

"Add her as a friend. Hell, add them all as friends."

Sean made an indecipherable face, twisting his lips. "And you think that's worth trying?"

Cameron pressed her lips together, gaze drifting away. "Everything's worth trying." For Chase. To save a life. To save more than one life. To save as many as she could. She had to. If she didn't try every possible thing she could, if he died in front of her... if she watched the life drain out of his eyes as she held him in her arms... how could she ever forgive herself?

"The kid really did it."

"Hm?" She looked over, curious. Sean was looking at the computer in disbelief, a small laugh escaping him.

"She really just added a stranger on Facebook. A 38 year old doctor from Chicago. That she doesn't know, and has never met." He pushed his hair back, the locks eagerly falling back in front of his eyes once he removed the hand. "That's insane."

"So... do we have any additional information?"

"Yeah, actually." He pointed at a recent photo from what appeared to be a school dance, the darkened room filled with colored lights, streamers and glitter scattered on the floor. "Mountain Lake High School." The corner of his mouth twitched up, looking at the five girls with their arms around one another. "I just have no clue which one she is."

* * *

"Alright, alright!" Chase held his hands out, taking a stumbling step back. "One more song. Then we're going to do something else."

About a dozen little faces stared back at him, eyes wide. He sat down on the nearest tiny chair, balancing a guitar on his lap. "Just sing along if you know it, alright?" Putting the strap over his shoulder, he strummed a few times, checking if the instrument was in tune. Clearing his throat, he began to sing. "I like to eat, eat, eat, apples and bananas..."

* * *

Cameron adjusted her sunglasses, peeking out from behind the corner. Kids walked through the school grounds, laughing and talking. "What the hell are we doing, Sean?"

He grinned, raising his eyebrows. "It's a stakeout. I put a listening device on the outside of the gym."

One voice caught her attention, as a group of girls walked past where the device was hidden.

"We're like those people on TV," Sean continued, oblivious. "Like CSI: Miami or some-"

"Shh, shut up!" she whispered, holding the earpiece closer. With the added silence, she could hear the girls clearly, the one in the middle continuing her tirade.

"I doubt he's even a real person. Like come on, why would a doctor in Chicago want to be friends with me? I'm telling you, it's Danny."

That definitely sounded like it was about Sean. She looked over to see him bent over trying to contain his laughter.

"No way. He's a pedophile or a catfish, for sure."

"That's what I'm saying. It has to be Danny, especially after he strung along Maddie for an entire semester pretending to be a hot up-and-coming singer."

"Danny's such a loser."

Cameron leaned in closer, but the girls had already gone out of earshot.

"Well, we found her."

She looked back at him nodding.

With a sigh, he stood up, rolling back his shoulders. "What the hell do we do now? Obviously she can't see me. I'm not supposed to be real."  
The girls disappeared into the cafeteria, still laughing. Little did they know...

How was she supposed to approach her? How could she even go up to a high schooler without it being weird? What was she supposed to say?

She shook her head. "I don't know."

* * *

Chase's heart was beating like crazy. Damn, he just needed to take a-

He finally collapsed under the mass of giggling kids, sinking into an oversized beanbag.

A boy climbed over his chest, fists in the air triumphantly. "Ha! I defeated you, evil monster!"

"Hey! I helped too!"

He let out a grunt as a girl jumped onto the bag, little palms pressing down on him. Patting the boy on the back, he leaned back, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. "Good job, guys."

"Having fun?"

He looked over to see Foreman leaning in the doorway, an amused grin on his face.

"Oh, you better run, Foreman," Chase said, laughing. "You're next."

"Oh, I don't think so," he said, slipping away. "I've got big kid problems to deal with."

He waited before the neurologist disappeared from sight before nudging the children gently off. "Alright, that's enough. Monster needs some water." Filling a paper cup at the cooler, he watched them go back to the toys, happily playing around. This was much better than dealing with House. In fact, he thought, sipping the water, he liked kids.

Yeah. He liked the little buggers.

* * *

They had gotten back into the car, parked a block away from the school. School was about to let out, and they were prepared. As prepared as they could be for an unknown killer.

"There she is," Cameron breathed, heart rate jumping up. Like clockwork, the group of girls walked past the entrance of the school, down the sidewalk.

"Do we follow them?"

She shook her head, at a loss. "We have to." They didn't really have another option. She wished... she really wished she knew what to do.

They trailed them down the block, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. The girls split up at the next turn, Sandra continuing ahead alone. Nearing train tracks, she stopped for a moment before crossing. Then froze in place in the middle of the tracks, water bottle falling out of her hand, clattering on the wood.

"Why did she stop?" Sean wondered, revving the engine.

"Something's wrong, she-" The barriers fell, lights flashing. And in the middle, doubles over in pain, was Sandra. "Oh, my God. No."

Sean stuck his head out the window, inching the car closer to the tracks. "Hey! You need to move!"

But she was unresponsive, not even indicating an awareness of their presence. She couldn't just let her stand there.  
"I'm getting her."

Sean grabbed her wrist. "Allison, you can't, it's not-"

Cameron unbuckled her seatbelt, breaking free from his grasp, and leapt out of the car. Just in time for the train to come barreling down the tracks, screeching and wailing, the wind produced by the movement whipping her hair around her face. A sickening thunk was the only indication that the girl had been there at all, water bottle bouncing and rolling to stop near her feet.

"No. No!" The train screeched to a halt.

* * *

The silence at the table was deafening, even amidst the chatty ambiance of the restaurant. It didn't take a genius to see something was wrong. Chase took a sip of wine, pretending to be interested in the menu, despite already knowing what to order.

They both looked kinda off, honestly. Cameron was trying her hardest to fake it, but her smile never reached her eyes. He'd seen that smile before. Before he had told her about Dibala. But it'd always disappeared in the dark.

She'd thought he was asleep, but he could remember the desperate whispers as she hugged him close. _Please tell me what's wrong. I love you._ He looked back up across the table. So much had changed since then. But he still knew that face. The worried face never changed.

He set the menu down on the table. "Is everything okay?"

Cameron set hers down as well, sighing, looking over at Sean for confirmation. Odd. Chase wondered if it had anything to do with what they had been arguing about at the party. It would make sense.

After a moment, she blinked a few times, averting her eyes. "I guess I should tell you."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: A little shorter this time. Also, shout-out to my wonderful friend willdrawforcompliments on Instagram, for giving this story a cover!**

"We..." She had to tell him something. He knew something was wrong. She could tell he knew by his little menu trick that he probably thought was more clever than it was. But when you spend enough time with someone, it's easy to see past simple facades. But she couldn't tell him everything. There was no way she could tell him about the list, or that she knew he was going to die. But there was no harm in a partial truth.

"We saw a girl get hit by a train." It was almost a whisper, but she could see by his rapidly changing expression that he had heard.

Chase wrinkled his brow, eyes wandering down to the table before meeting hers again. "We don't have to do dinner if you're not feeling up to it."

"No-" she said, too quickly, prompting both men to raise their eyebrows. "It's fine. We'll be okay." He didn't look convinced, so she reiterated. "I promise."

A waitress came and took their orders, leaving hastily as if she could sense the unease at the table.

Cameron intertwined her fingers with Sean's under the table, trying to emotionally brace herself for whatever lay ahead. She had to keep going. She had to. "How's everything been going?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Are you sure about this?" Chase questioned, his voice taking on a familiarly tender tone.

She squeezed Sean's hand tighter, nodding. "I'd rather... I'd rather get my mind off of it."

Chase contemplated this, nodding as well. "Well, for starters, Cuddy and House are a thing now."

She'd heard it earlier today, but it still sounded ludicrous. Enough that her surprise wasn't feigned. "So, how did that happen again?"

"Not sure," Chase said, leaning back a bit as their dishes were placed in front of them. "There was an incident of a crane falling on a building. It was crazy- sirens blaring, smoke and rubble everywhere you could see. They sent a bunch of us out to the site to do emergency evaluations on anyone we could find. Anyone who was still alive, anyway." He shook his head, recalling the situation. "And then we somehow got stuck diagnosing the crane operator while House and Cuddy were doing God knows what. Next thing you know, she's called off her engagement and is dating House."

Cameron raised her eyebrows. "An engagement."

"Yep." He cut off a piece of steak, chewing thoughtfully. "Thirteen also up and disappeared one day."

"What do you mean?" She asked, frowning. "Don't talk when you're chewing."

"Hold on," Sean said, holding out a hand. "There's a person named _Thirteen_?"

Cameron glanced at Chase over the table, making eye contact. "Well, technically..."

Chase tilted his head. "House had this reality show thing going on to pick a new team after we all left. Gave them all numbers. Thirteen kept hers."

Cameron laughed, raising a wine glass to her lips. "No, Foreman and I left. _You_ got fired."

He shrugged it off. "Same outcome, anyway. Anyway, she left without a trace. Set up a ruse, then doesn't show up to her own party. And when Foreman tried to contact her he found out she cut all her lines."

"Do you know why?" Sure, if there was anyone who would disappear without a trace, it was Thirteen, but there had to be a reason.

"No idea."

Sean shrugged. "The only reason I could think of for someone disappearing is if they were running from the cops."

The other two looked at him incredulously, before glancing at each other.

"Do you really think..." she started.

"It wouldn't be off-brand."

The table burst into laughter, the earlier tension completely forgotten about.

"So, how about you?" Chase asked, taking a sip of wine. "How's the last year or so been?"

She looked over at Sean, as he smiled cheekily back. "I mean, I met this guy." Warmth blooming in her cheeks, she looked back up. "Besides that, I'm working in the ER in Chicago. I'm thinking of applying for department head."

Sean blinked. "You are?"

She nodded, smiling. "I wanted to make it a surprise."

Unexpectedly, she could see his face fall, a shadow passing over as he looked away. But he didn't express why, so she didn't press the issue.

The rest of the evening went smoothly. So well, in fact, that it unnerved her a little. Things weren't fine. Things weren't supposed to be fine. But yet, she was laughing and chatting with a man slated to die, pretending that she hadn't already seen the fate he was unknowingly walking into. She wondered if Sean was thinking the same thing.

* * *

Chase leaned against the kitchen counter, loosening his tie with one hand, the other holding a glass of water. Freeing the accessory, he downed the entire glass in a few large gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. What a night.

He made his way gradually to the bedroom, a trail of various discarded clothing following him. He fell back onto his bed, playing back the conversation in his head. Don't talk while chewing. He smirked at the ceiling, remembering the knee-jerk correction. It made him remember when they were still together.

His eyes trailed to the corner of the room, to a box left untouched since he had moved.

No. Don't-

But his body had a mind of its own, and he found himself getting up to retrieve the box, sitting back down with it resting on his lap. This was a bad idea. His fingers pulled the flaps of the box apart, masking tape tearing under the force.

The memories were like a punch to the gut. He lifted out a wedding album as if it was made of glass, running his fingertips over the cover.  
He couldn't get past the second page.

And so, in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, he was forced to reconsider if he really was over the relationship at all.

 _You sleeping with all those women? That's a coping mechanism. And it's not healthy._ Of course. Of course that's what he's going to remember at this time. Foreman chastising him.

But what the hell else was he supposed to do? She'd clearly moved on. And all of this- he glanced back down at the assorted memorabilia- all this was a distraction. But a sweet one. He could remember the way her hand felt in his, squeezes of affirmation guiding them through the day. He could remember the way her eyes lit up when he'd surprise her in the emergency room, if only for a moment. He remembered the late nights spent staying up encapsulated in conversation. Every dinner. Every trip. Every dance. Everything.

And when he finally snapped out of the stupor, the bed was covered in the assorted items. Everything that reminded him of her.

It took a moment before he put them all back into the box, somewhat unwillingly. It was a hurdle he'd have to get over, sooner or later. He'd probably never see her again after this. But it was nice savoring the memories, just one last time.

* * *

"Something wrong?"

"No." Cameron knew he could see straight through the statement, her hands squeezing the sheets into balls as they sat in bed.

"Allison-"

"I don't- I don't really want to talk about this right now."

He grabbed her hands, nudging her to look in his direction. "Too bad, because we need to."

"Sean-"

"You need a break."

"I can't-" she started, but he wouldn't budge.

"I'll deal with whoever's next," he said, the deep brown of his eyes gazing steadily at her. "Whatever's next. Just find Chase, okay? Talk to the Princeton people. Get the intel you need. Spend time with him."

She blinked a few times. Was he really suggesting...

"I know he means a lot to you."

She sighed, putting her arms around his neck. "Are you sure about this?"

He nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "I trust you."

They stared at each other for a moment, trying to read the other's thoughts. Was he really okay with this? He had to have some reservations about the situation. If she was in the same situation... She imagined a hypothetical ex in her head constantly hovering over their relationship. No, there was no way she could be as tolerant as Sean had been. She pulled him close, sighing into his shoulder.

"Okay. But tell me when you find the next person. I want to be there."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Guess who's behind their proposed schedule? Definitely not me! Anyway, they're gonna come as they come. On the other hand, I do not recommend mutivariable calculus. 0/10.**

Stepping back into the hospital for the first time in over a year was overwhelming. Doctors and nurses rushed around the main lobby, the mass of faces strangely unfamiliar in the familiar setting. To be honest, it didn't look all that familiar either. Everything felt... smaller. To be fair, her hospital in Chicago was considerably larger, but... she didn't really expect anything to feel this different.

To say she was relieved to see Foreman running through the room would be an understatement. "Foreman!"

The man stopped in his tracks, lab coat whipping around him almost comically. He squinted his eyes in her direction, frowning. "Cameron?" He wove through the crowd to reach her, wrapping her in a friendly hug. "It's good to see you."

She smiled, touched at the surprisingly positive reaction. "It's good to see you, too." She glanced around the room again, trying to find Chase in the crowd.

"Shouldn't you be on a plane or something, though?"

"Uh- Yeah-" she looked back at him, the sudden question catching her off-guard. "Something came up." She looked around at the unfamiliar masses yet again. "Listen, do you know where Chase is?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting her response. "Chase? Should be at home. He called in sick today."

The neurologist's words sent a chill up her spine. Sick could mean anything. She could already imagine him lying on the bathroom floor in a puddle of sweat, unable to pull himself back up to his feet. Reason said that was likely not the case. Her emotions thought otherwise.

"Do you have his address?" she breathed, sounding more frantic than she had initially intended.

She could see Foreman questioning her motives behind his gaze, but he chose not to voice them. "...Yeah." he scribbled the address out on a sticky note, handing it to her.

"Thanks." She left without another word, knowing that his confused eyes trailed her as she pushed her way through the front doors.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

He stood in the doorway, a stark contrast from the last two times she'd seen him. His hair, before neatly combed, stuck out as a disheveled mess. Gone were the suits and ties. In their place sat a t-shirt and pajama pants. He didn't look particularly happy to see her there. Whatever confusion there might've been was clearly overtaken with exhaustion, and she began to realize he was putting most of his weight into the doorframe.

"I heard you were sick." He didn't respond, so she lifted the bag she was carrying, the plastic straining under the weight of its contents. "I brought soup."

Soup was apparently her ticket in, as his expression shifted to a weary smile, stepping back in order to give her enough room to enter.  
She couldn't help looking around the room as she walked in, setting the bag on the coffee table. It was a little... bare, to be honest. Some familiar pieces of furniture, some temporary that clashed with the proper furniture. Little to no decoration. A few boxes, yet to be emptied. She squinted at them. After months. What had he been doing this whole...

He'd pulled a headset back on, taking a sip out of a half-empty drink cup as he tapped away at the game he had been playing, turning it off before setting the controller down.

"Is this what you've been doing this whole time?"

Chase glanced over, shrugging. "Pretty much." He reached out again for the cup, but she nudged it out of reach with the bag.

"Eat the soup."

He smirked, eyes narrowing as he closed a hand around the plastic of the bag. "And you're sure you didn't poison it?"

"Robert."

"Alright, alright." He lifted the container out of the bag, setting it back down. Then stared at it. Tendrils of steam snaked out of the empty container, his eyes lost in its contents.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I-" he shook his head, as if clearing away his thoughts. "Yeah."

But she knew what the look on his face meant. He remembered. And he noticed that she remembered too. It'd been almost a tradition to get chicken soup from the same café any time either of them was sick. And, when you worked in the medical field, getting sick was common. But he didn't mention it, only picking up a spoon to start eating. So she didn't either.

He dropped the spoon suddenly, turning away into a fit of coughs. "Sorry." He cleared his throat, spitting something into a napkin. "Darn kids."

"Kids?" She handed him another with unnecessary urgency, and he nodded in thanks.

"Yeah, they were short-handed in the-" he coughed into his sleeve again- "kids' department."

The cough concerned her, and she put a hand up to his forehead reflexively. Warm. "Fever?"

"101." The corner of his mouth turned up, and he handed her a second controller. "Come on. Quit worrying for a second. You're treating me like I'm going to die or something."

His words made her heart skip a beat, and she tried her best to plaster a smile on her face, somewhat unconvincingly.

A look of concern passed over his face, and he turned away to blow his nose before speaking. "I know the last few days have been tough for you."

She fumbled with the controller in her lap. "It's not... it's not completely..."

"Come on. You're Allison Cameron. If you weren't worrying, I'd be worried."

When her expression didn't change, he put a finger to his head, pretending to be in deep thought. "Look I even consulted a doctor. Diagnosis, rhinovirus." He raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Or in layman's terms, the common cold."

She nudged him away, turning away to try to hide the fact that she was smiling.

Pressing a few buttons, he pulled up a party game, turning to her with a wink. "Bet you can't beat me again."

* * *

Sean was in way over his head. Frankly, they'd been lucky so far, finding the people they'd had. But when someone didn't want to be found, they were practically nonexistent. And Sammy Gonzalez was not a man who wanted to be found. He sat on the edge of the hotel bed, securing the brace that wrapped itself around his left leg. He hated the chunk of metal. It was nothing more than a reminder of crushed dreams, now. With a sigh, he walked out the door.

He didn't have much here. Not much more than a name, and the hope that a person with that name lived somewhere in Princeton or the surrounding area. What the hell was he thinking? The things he did for her...

Luckily, he wasn't exactly street dumb. Growing up in one of the shadier parts of LA, he'd seen his fair share of criminal activity.

'Don't look, keep walking', his mom always said. But unbeknownst to her, he'd spent several nights in high school out with the football team in a sketchy warehouse, integrating seamlessly with the local gang. Most of the team divided their time in both, some even selling drugs on the side. In alleys like this.

A man leaned against the wall, baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. As Sean's shadow came into his peripheral, he looked up, dipping the brim of the cap in greeting. "You here to buy?"

He nodded in greeting. "No. Looking for someone. You know a Sammy Gonzalez?"

In the blink of an eye he was staring down the barrel of a pistol, the man closing the gap between them.

"Why you wanna know, Chino?"

Oh, yeah. He was definitely street dumb.

* * *

Hours later, countless rounds of ridiculous mini-games under their belts, the TV was switched off, empty bowls and used tissues littering the table. Chase ran a hand through his hair, leaning back into the couch, knowing it likely only disheveled it further. Heck, anything if it would make her smile. He felt like a middle-schooler, glancing over constantly at a crush that would never notice him.

"See, you just need to relax once in a while."

Her face fell, and he wondered if he had said something wrong. Was it the girl? Maybe it was too soon. But before he could think of an apology, she was smiling again. A fake smile, he noted, looking more closely. It didn't reach her eyes. No, she would say if it was something she'd already mentioned. This didn't make any sense.

"Allison..."

The facade fell instantly when she heard her name, her bottom lip quivering slightly.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

Had everything up to this point been a lie? There was no reason she should be this upset. He resisted the urge to reach out and take her hand, fingers instead curling around the fabric of his pajama pants.

"It's not..." she hesitated, averting her gaze.

What could she want to hide this badly? It had to be something big for her to not want to say anything. He wasn't crazy, right? Something was wrong. It wasn't- the sudden realization made his eyes narrow. "This doesn't have anything to do with Sean, does it?"

Her mouth dropped open at the mere suggestion. "No!" She blinked a few times, trying to gather herself. "No, nothing like that."

Well that wasn't suspicious at a-

"I know what you're thinking, Robert. And no."

He cracked a grin, meeting her eyes. "So we're not going to save the princess, then?"

She rolled her eyes, standing to clean up the bowls. "You think you're funny."

He laughed, getting up to help her put things away. "You're smiling, aren't you?" And she was. God, he didn't care if he was making corny jokes all day. They way her eyes lit up...

He knew he shouldn't feel this way, knew they weren't together anymore, knew she wasn't his. But he'd be lying if he said that her smile didn't make her heart feel lighter. And he didn't want her to leave.

"Hey," he said, setting a bowl on the drying rack. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

* * *

She glanced down at her phone, seeming to scroll through something quickly before looking back up with a small smile. "Yeah, sure."

"So? You gonna talk, Chino? Want me to blow your face off? You ain't a cop, are ya?"

"I've got... business," Sean said as calmly as he could, hands held out in front of him. He was going to die here, wasn't he? On a mission to save a man he barely knew, on nothing but his girlfriend's word along, he was going to-

The man lowered the gun, breaking into a smile. "Why ain't you say something, then?"

Sean let out a breath, lowering his hands. Thank God. He'd been nearly certain that they would've found his body there, head blown to smithereens.

The man holstered the gun, taking a step in. "You wanna see Sammy, you go to Jack's Diner at 8. No sooner, no later. We got some business tonight."

Sean nodded, shaking the man's hand.

* * *

She shouldn't still be here, shouldn't be doing this. Shouldn't be curled up on the couch, eating popcorn as Ratatouille droned on in the background. Cameron glanced over at Chase, happily engrossed in the film. He'd almost found out. She'd need to be more careful. Better at pretending.

But she was pretending now, wasn't she? Pretending that everything was okay. She looked over at him again. But who was she trying to trick, exactly?

She knew it was wrong, that it was dodging responsibility in a way, but she could almost convince herself that they were just hanging out, that the perpetual cloud of doom hanging over every second didn't exist. And she felt herself giving way to the illusion.

She grabbed another handful of popcorn, chewing and swallowing before speaking. "I didn't take you as the type who'd buy Disney movies."

Chase took his eyes off the screen for a moment, looking over at her. "I'll have you know, that rat is one of the best actors of our time."

She blinked. It was a pretty good movie, but she seriously doubted an animated rat could even be considered for best actor.

"Nah, I'm kidding. Niece wanted to give it to me for Christmas."

Cameron frowned, trying to recall if she had ever heard anything about this niece. "Isn't she like... four?"

He made a face. "About, yeah. The disc wasn't new. But she insisted that it was for 'Uncuh Wobert', so here we are now."

She laughed, trying to imagine the little girl forcing the disc upon him. "Could've been worse."

"It really could've been." He broke off into coughs again, spitting phlegm into a tissue, and the waves of anxiety crashed over her again.

Instinctively, she grabbed the remote, stopping the movie. "Maybe we shouldn't be watching right now."

He leaned over casually, taking it from her hands. "What else is there to do? Might as well lie around all day."

"You should rest," she insisted, putting a hand on his arm. Sure, he seemed okay, but how could she know this wouldn't escalate?

"I _am_ resting," he retorted, leaning back further into the couch to prove a point.

"Fine," she said, taking the remote back, "but after the movie's over, you're going to bed."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm starting to think I shouldn't have let you in."

She elbowed him gently, starting up the movie again.

* * *

Sean had been good at football, he recalled fondly, staring over at a field where some high schoolers were warming up. He'd been so certain that he was going to make it pro, break barriers in the NFL, whatever it took.

He hadn't really taken a shattered kneecap into consideration.

His parents never liked the idea of football, anyway. 'Why can't you be more like Cindy? She's going to get a scholarship for piano. You get good grades, Sean. How come you don't want to be a doctor? Korean people don't play football.'

He thought he'd just try harder, convince them that he could be successful as an athlete, that he could do whatever he wanted and still be successful. But look where he was now.

The thunk of a ball hitting the bleachers snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Hey, over here!" A boy clad in bright blue jumped up, waving his arms.

Sean picked up the ball, savoring the familiar feeling of the leather beneath his fingers for a moment, then threw it.


End file.
